I am currently sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at a white cotton rectangle that has somehow defeated me. It’s a fitted sheet. I tried the “burrito method” I saw on a viral video, and I’ve tried the “tuck-and-roll,” but right now, it looks like a giant, discarded ravioli. It is a small, ordinary failure of geometry.
This is exactly how it feels to navigate the foreign investment landscape in a market like Sri Lanka when you don’t have a map. You start with a clear objective-a rectangle of logic-and within , you are tangled in elastic “schedules,” “approvals,” and “customary practices” that seem to have no beginning and no end.
The frustration isn’t just that the rules are complex; it’s the creeping suspicion that the complexity is the point. We are taught to believe that regulation is a neutral set of goalposts. But in reality, complexity is often a moat. It is a defensive